Page 27 of Pretty Broken Promises

Tessa stops pacing in front of me. The rain is pouring harder now, and my sweatshirt hangs heavily off of her thin frame. I can see the exhaustion that goes deep into her bones. I wouldn't call her broken, but she’s definitely breakable. Her nostrils flare, and she is ready to argue with me. Good, because she will need the added steel in her spine to face this to the end.

“I can't stand to be touched. It makes me remember and I just can’t. I close my eyes and I see it and I smell them, and—” Her voice cracks and grows quiet. “I feel it.”

She sucks in a lungful of oxygen. “You think you can tell me these aren't the reasons that I've been holding you away? I keep telling you I'm not ready. You're not listening to me.” She’s almost yelling at me now, but I can’t let her stop yet. She said she needed to get this out, and it seems I’m going to have to pull it out of her after all.

I shake my head. “Okay, you're not ready. I never said we had to rush. Just spend time with me. You're okay spending time with Bennett.”

“But that’s different,” she says. She’s confused now. She didn’t expect me to have anything of substance to press her on.

“How? He's a guy. He wants a romantic relationship with you too. I assume eventually he would also like to have sex with you. How is that any different?”

“Because,” she says. Her voice is weak now, and she’s losing hold of this lie she’s been telling herself.

“Because why, Tessa?” I press.

Her hands go up to her hair and she pulls slightly at the roots. “Because I'm not mad at him,” she screams.

“And that is why you've been holding me at arm’s length. My question is, do you love me more than you're mad at me?”

I hold my breath and wait for her to answer. She looks resigned and ashamed. “Against my better judgment, yes.”

Tessa exhales and sits beside me once again on the bench. “God knows I've tried not to. I kept telling myself to love what was good for me. Yet here I am screaming at you in the rain, still in love with you, even though it hurts.”

“I promise you, Vixen, this is the last time I'm going to ask for another chance because I will never need another one. This time I'm gonna get it right.”

“I don't want your pretty words. No more pretty promises, because you've broken enough of those.”

“Then what can I do?” I drop to my knees in front of her. Sin told me to lay my pride at her feet. I need her to see that this time it will be different. My words sound almost pleading, because if she pushes me away this time, I know she won't be coming back.

She looks down at me and I don't see trust in her eyes, but I see a desire to trust me. I can build from that. “I want you to hold me. And the next time that I need you and I call, you better fucking be there.”

“That won't be hard, because where you go, I go. We are never going to be apart again,” I tell her.

She bites her bottom lip. “I don't want to live in Playa anymore. I want to give us a try, but I can't live there. I know maybe you didn't understand before, but too much bad has happened to me there. I just can't. I want to move back here.”

I rise to my feet, and hold my arms wide. This time she doesn't hesitate to step into my embrace. I wrap my arms around her and put my chin on the top of her head. “Then I guess I better get used to the rain.”

ChapterThirteen

TESSA

After screamingat Ford in the rain, we went back to my mom's house, and I fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep. He wrapped his arms around me and his signature leather and spice scent enveloped me. I don't know if it's because of our talk, but I go to sleep feeling like no matter what happens he will be there to make it okay.

Things are much lighter when we wake up later in the morning. I find him in the kitchen trying to figure out my mother’s very complicated espresso machine. Being a classic California boy, he doesn't appreciate good coffee as much as someone who has adopted the Pacific Northwest as their home, like my mom and I have. Here in Washington, coffee is a religion. Maybe not an official one, but it's pretty close. If the evergreen wasn't already a symbol for the state, I think the coffee bean could take its place.

I come up behind him and reach my arms around his wide back. This was a lot easier when we were teenagers. I have to duck my head under his arm to see what he’s doing, which is apparently staring at the machine.

“Having trouble there, big guy?” I ask him.

He runs his hand through his dark brown hair, which is a little bit longer on the top than he used to keep it, and flops adorably over his eyes. “Is a normal coffee machine anywhere in this house?”

“Let the professional show you how it's done.” I slide in front of him, but he barely steps back to give me any room. I know he's pushing me, trying to get me more comfortable with being physically close to him, and it's working. The feel of his muscles as I push past him to get to the counter awakens a part of me that I wasn't sure I would ever get back. I'm still taking it slow, but I have hope that I didn't have before.

His large hand drops to my hips when he notices I'm not going to pull away from him. “By all means, Vixen.”

His fingers slip just under the edge of my T-shirt, so they're resting on the skin above my sweatpants. His thumbs stroke up and down my sides, it tickles, but it also sends jolts of electricity to my core. My lips part and a light gasp escapes them. I can feel the heat from his body seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt, it's clear my body is ready for things that my mind has not quite caught up to yet.

My breathing comes out faster, and my fingers shake as I reach for the coffee grinder. “You…you have to grind the beans,” I stutter.

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